Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (60 page)

“What was that Lucas?” Jameson still hadn’t forgiven them.

Lucas didn’t say anymore but pulled Mr. Jangles on his lap, for protection I assumed. It’s not like Mr. Jangles offered all that much protection these days. He may sit on you but as far as defense mechanisms go; Mr. Jangles had none, other than his thirty-five pounds. Now if you were let’s say a mouse, you were shit out of luck, he’d crush you.

It took a really long time to get ready to go camping.

For one, Jameson did in fact cut the tree down but when it landed on the red dragon, I cried.

I got that truck when I turned sixteen and she’d treated me well. Yes, she would sometimes stop running on the freeway, and occasionally leave me stranded but she loved me. We had some good times together. These “good times” not including the time I lost my virginity in it to Dylan Grady. Dylan was not my best decision and one of those times I could really look back and say, “That’s where you went wrong.”

After destroying the red dragon, Jameson looked as though he was going to cry himself when he realized his lumberjack skills were seriously lacking.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Jameson whispered in my ear sitting on the tailgate with me. “So sorry,” His arm draped loosely over my shoulders.

The red dragon was junk now. The tree landed right across the cab of my primer red 1979 Ford F-150. Poor ole girl.

“S’okay,” I hiccupped, another cry broke through.

Jameson lifted me onto his lap. “How many more times am I going to make you cry?” Shaking his head in disappointment, his gaze was fixated on the broken branches surrounding us.

“Really Jameson—it’s fine. I needed to get another car anyways.”

“It’s
not
okay, Sway.” His head bowed. “I’m buying you another one.”

“You’re
not
buying me a car, Jameson.”

“You don’t have a say in this, it’s already done.” He pointed to the road towards a silver car parked at the end of the driveway. “It’s yours.”

“Where’d you get that?” Squinting into the bright sun, I could faintly see a Subaru. “That wasn’t there earlier.”

“I rented it when I got here.” He told me. “When I killed red dragon, I called Subaru and bought it.”

“Why?” I looked up at his sad eyes.

He shrugged. “I can be an asshole, but I refuse to be an asshole
all
the time.”

“What is it?”

His eyes lit up, he loved talking car. “It’s a Subaru Impreza STI. Awesome on the dirt,”

“Are we taking it camping?”

“Precisely why I rented it, well, bought it now.”

“Neato,”

I still hadn’t forgotten about the red dragon but this was a nice distraction. And let’s face it; I was easily distracted just like my heathen.

We walked down the gravel driveway to the car that was parked under the birch trees. It was pretty, shiny silver, and had a turbo.

Running my hand over the hood, I thought of my pit lizard days on the hood of Jameson’s race car.

My eyes shot up to his when he chuckled.

Winking, he bit down on his lower lip and was by my side in a second. “As much as I want to try out this hood
...
we need to get up to Dayton Peak soon.”

Damn him.

Loaded with tents, sleeping bags, more junk food than any one person could possibly need, and more beer than any one person could possibly need, we made our way through Shelton towards Dayton Peak.

Once we hit the dirt roads Jameson stopped the car, letting the engine rev a few times. His eyes darted over to me when he changed the song playing on his iPod to The White Strips,
Icky Thump
.

“Hold tight guys,” he warned revving the engine twice before slamming it into first gear, his head bouncing to the beat.

The back tires spun spraying gravel and dirt over the surrounding pine trees.

Emma screamed, Aiden laughed, and I was in carnal lust naturally. Watching everything he did; it was hard
not
to be turned on.

Just like in his race car, the way his agile hands maneuvered the steering wheel, the quick movements his feet made shifting gears, the muscles in his forearms that flexed with each shift, all a turn on. As we went sideways drifting around the corner, he belted out a verse from the song.

I laughed out-loud, Emma screamed again, and Aiden laughed.

Driving the way he did a sprint car, he pushed the car to the very edge of each corner before throwing the wheel the opposite direction.

I could tell by the smirk plastered across his face; he missed this. He loved racing in NASCAR but Jameson would always be a dirt track racer, it was in his blood. His grandpa raced, his dad raced. It was all he has ever known.

It didn’t take long to reach Dayton Peak with Jameson’s driving.

Unloading the car, Emma was trying to carry the beer over to the fire when she dropped a few.

Aiden had his arms full so she looked towards Jameson, who was peeing on the side of a tree.

“Jameson, I need help!” Emma yelled from behind the car balancing boxes. “Please.”

“No,” he answered. “Leave me alone. You stabbed me.”

“He holds grudges doesn’t he?” Emma looked at me.

“Not really, but you did
stab
him.”

Though it took some time, we eventually got everything unloaded, the night fell into our usual  blitheness we found within beside the fire. Aside from a few instances of sibling spats regarding a recent stabbing.

The storm from the other night was lingered making for a rainy and windy night but that didn’t stop us from having fun.

From our campsite, there was a spectacular view of the Puget Sound area. It was the best place to watch fireworks on the Fourth. From Seattle, Bellevue, Tacoma and Olympia, you could see it all.

Jameson and I sat on the other side of the campsite from Emma and Aiden. Jameson wanted
no
part of being next to Emma or hearing them make out, which they were doing frequently.

“Do you remember the last time we were up here?” Jameson whispered in my ear. Nuzzled behind me his warm arms wrapped around my chest waiting for my reply.

Snuggling in, I clutched the blanket around us as a breeze blew through, the crisp Northwest encircling. “Yeah, we were sixteen.”

Jameson chuckled lightly in my ear, his two-day scruff tickling my cheek. “You were
so
beautiful that night.” His arms squeezed me once. “The way your hair shined against the fire, the way your green eyes looked almost black with the night.”

“Did you get that from a
Hallmark
card?”

“No, I was
trying
to tell you that I loved you longer that I’ve realized.” He exhaled kissing my ear, his warm breath scorching my cool skin.

“You had feelings back then?”

“I didn’t know it, but I remember wondering what it would like to be with you.” He cleared his throat. “That sounded bad
...
I uh
...
I’ve always been
...
very
attracted to you. For the moment I saw you, I may have been eleven but I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I laughed. “Really, you have?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I guess I just didn’t realize the attraction went beyond physical attraction. I’m slow.”

We watched the fireworks die down but one thing led to another and we were no longer watching fireworks but creating our own.

The passionate, gentle Jameson was out tonight. He was affectionate and tender with touch and words. His actions were dawdling, ardent and attentive.

Once inside the tent, everything turned erotic.

There was something about being in the dark. I couldn’t see him but hear his movement, his sexy whispering, his steady strained breathing and soft grunts as we continued where we left off outside.

Slowly, he began slide my panties down my hips. Moments later, his tongue was against my inner thigh and then my crankcase, though I still couldn’t see him.

“What the fuck?” Jameson yelled jumping back. “My
...
lip
...
is bleeding.”

I wasn’t even thinking,
clearly
, or else I would have recalled my trip to the mall before I let Jameson go down on me in the dark, bad idea. I guess I should have thought about the sharpness before I went and ripped out my beaver pelt to add bling.

“I got
...
vajazzled.” I replied softly, relieved it was dark so he couldn’t see how completely embarrassed I was about this whole situation. Just in case he had night vision, I flopped my arms over my very flushed face.

To make matters worse, Jameson turned on the lantern beside the air mattress. “You vaj
...
what?” he looked at me with confusion wiping blood from his upper lip. With his eyes dropping to the bling, he positioned the light to observe my masterpiece.

Slowly, a smirk appeared.

“You
...
I
...
uh
...
” the smirk grew wider leaning down between my legs for a closer look. His fingertips softly grazed over the vajazzled crankcase bling. “Is that a number nine?”

Nodding was all I could do. I was too embarrassed to speak, didn’t stop the giggles though.

“When did you do this?” His voice was a soft whisper in my ear again hovering over me. “And I love it, by the way. It’s sexy as hell.”

Oh god, there’s that whispering again.

“Tuesday
...
when Emma and I were at the mall,”

“How did I not see this yesterday?” he wondered.

“You were a
little
preoccupied.”

Grinning, Jameson recalled the amount of align boring that took place yesterday. “Well, looks I need to show this
...
” his fingers brushed over the flag. “some attention. After all, you did go to the trouble to
...
um
...
get my number.”

Turning the lantern off, he went back to work.

I couldn’t take much more of it, within a few minutes I was frantically yanking him up my body. Willingly with a growl, he was exactly where I wanted him to be.

It must have been the illusion of privacy from the darkness providing obscurity, everything seemed heightened. I didn’t last long at all but just as I reached my release, Emma screamed.

“Jameson
...
” Just speaking was difficult at that point let alone getting him to focus. His hips continued to meet mine with erratic movements. “We should see
...
what that was.”